Are Evangelicals Truly Conservatives?

I just finished a book by D.G. Hart called From Billy Graham to Sarah Palin: Evangelicals and the Betrayal of American Conservatism. It is definitely an interesting read as Hart, a Church Historian at Hillsdale College, first explores what American Conservatism is and then goes on to challenge the general confusion American Evangelicals since the Reagan years have had, thinking of themselves as conservatives. Hart's book opens with these words:

For over twenty-five years an axiom of American politics has been that evangelical Protestantism is politically conservative. This notion involves the assumption that conservative religion and conservative politics go hand in hand. Prior to the 1970s, of course, evangelicals were known more for an other-worldly faith that made them more concerned with saving souls for the world to come than with turning out voters to decide on matters of the here and now. That is why evangelicals prior to the Reagan revolution had the reputation for being politically passive.

The word reputation needs to be emphasized because most evangelicals, like my parents, who did not have a television and so carted my brother and me over to our uncle’s to see a Goldwater-Johnson debate during the 1964 presidential campaign, cared about their nation and voted in ways that students of American religion and politics back then rarely noticed. During the 1960s no one really knew about the “God vote” except when Protestants pulled levers and punched chads for candidates who were not Roman Catholic. What is accurate to say of twentieth-century-evangelicalism is that from World War II until the rise of the Moral Majority, the Christian Coalition, and Focus on the Family, born-again Protestants lacked notable religious or political leaders or institutions that could rally them as an electoral bloc. Since Ronald Reagan’s victory in 1980, however, evangelicalism has been a vocal and visible member of the political coalition as conservative.

In point of fact, this axiom of American electoral politics is looking less certain as the years pass. Figures such as Pat Robertson and James Dobson still preside over their parachurch fiefdoms and are capable of marshalling supporters to call congressional delegates or vote for specific candidates. But these evangelical leaders are old (since I began work on this book, Jerry Falwell and D. James Kennedy have died) and the ones who are filling the void are not inclined to identify themselves as conservative. Indeed, a transition is underway in which the born-again Greatest Generation is giving way to a generation of evangelical baby-boomers every bit as unpredictable as their secular, Roman Catholic, or mainline Protestant counterparts. This generational succession suggests that the days of goodwill and harmonious relations between evangelicals and conservatives may be coming to an end. Whether the final break will be on the order of an ugly divorce or simply a mutually-agreed-upon decision just to be friends, the tensions surfacing between evangelicals and the Right are reaching the threshold of irreconciliable differences.  From Billy Graham to Sarah Palin, pp. 1-2  

Hart's basic thesis, an interesting one at that, is that Evangelical/"Born-Again" Protestant peoples and their alignment with political conservatism has been somewhat of a confused marriage partnership beginning with Reagan until recently, but that after 25-30 years, the marriage is now on the verge of a significant break-up (citing "irreconciliable differences"), a break-up because the beginnings/foundation of the partnership was questionable in the first place.

Praying and Working for the Kingdom

"We cannot tell how much of the righteousness of the kingdom will be established within ordinary history, but it is our responsibility to pray and work that that kingdom will be established on earth as it is and will be in heaven. As we look through history toward the great mountain of the Lord, we cannot wholly distinguish the foothills from its ultimate fulfillment where there is no longer day and night, revival and decline, but only perpetual light in the face of the Lamb of God. We can only know that we are required to move toward that mountain with every grace and energy that the outpoured Spirit can provide."

Dynamics, p. 434

A Challenge to the Church

"We have seen in the history of the church, 'the Israel of God,' has failed almost as grievously as Israel under the Old Covenant in living out God's righteousness. Though it has reached many of the Gentiles and led them into a form of godliness, it has only rarely displayed that measure of spiritual power which would offer compelling proof that Jesus is the Messiah. It remains for gentile churches to lay hold of the principles and the reality of his reign within history among his people."

Dynamics, p. 429

Are These the Last Days?

"As a church historian I am automatically rather cautious about the assumption that these are literally the last days. There is no depressed era in Christian history which has not felt itself to be on the verge of Christ's return. And depressed eras have a way of turning into Christian resurgences that regain lost ground and move beyond it to embrace a larger area with purer expressions of the gospel."

Richard Lovelace writing in the late 70s when the U.S. economic situation looked bleak,

Dynamics, p. 423

Holistic Ministry for Structures and Hearts

Many believers conclude from reading the New Testament that the shortest route to social change is changing hearts through preaching the gospel and making disciples through "spiritual" instruction, so that our main duty to the poor is to preach the gospel to them. I believe this conclusion is natural but wrong, for reasons which can be clearly identified both in Scripture and history.

First, the Old Testament shows that whenever professing believers become so dominant in a society that they can influence its structures, they are responsible to help establish justice. John Howard Yoder is correct in stating that the messianic King is never presented in Scripture as the ruler over a realm of shadows, a never-never land outside history. He is the Son of David who is to bring in the Year of Jubilee (the redistribution of wealth so that the poor recover their possessions), who is finally going to establish justice for the poor and who is going to liberate the oppressed by casting down their oppressors and raising up the humble to leadership.

In the New Testament, Jesus comes bringing not only forgiveness to the faithful but healing for the sick, bread for the hungry, sight for the blind and hearing for the deaf. We might be inclined to spiritualize all these matters, but we have seen Christians within history bringing them to literal fulfillment! We would do better to broaden their meaning to include the healing of sick societies.

The Christians in Acts practices "Pentecostal economics," not by abolishing private property but by putting all their goods at the disposal of one another and the kingdom. Paul engineered redistribution of wealth among the churches. If we had only Matthew 25:31-36 and the letter of James, we would have to conclude that the New Testament is as uncompromisingly earthy and literal as the Old in its demands for social justice. It calls for sacrifices which are not payable only in spiritual and emotional currency. They cost money and effort as well as love.

We see then that Christians are responsible to carry out a holistic ministry which cares for people's bodies as well as their souls and which seeks to change structures as well as hearts. . . . it is never the case that we have a first priority to see a man's soul saved, and then, if our funds hold out, to do something for him socially and materially. Our responsibility is to respond to him in love on every level, within the bounds of what is possible and practicable.

Dynamics, pp. 387-89

Alcohol, Slavery and Loss of Social Concern 3

A third factor in the breakup of evangelical social concern was a monolithic shift in eschatology which occurred in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Up to this point premillennial, postmillennial and amillennial evangelicals had been united in working and praying toward spiritual, cultural and social renewal....

With the onslaught of post-Darwinism secularism, evangelicals reacted against this... and moved toward an eschatology which explained more clearly the spiritual degeneration they saw... D.L. Moody, who was converted to Darbyite Dispensationalism and transmitted it into the warp and woof of Fundamentalism, summed up this reaction rather graphically:

The word of God nowhere tells me to watch and wait for the coming of the millennium, but for the coming of the Lord. I don’t find any place where God says the world is to grow better and better, and that Christ is to have a spiritual reign on earth of a thousand years (as in the prominent postmillennial thought of the day). I find that the earth is to grow worse and worse and that at length there is going to be a separation (of the saved from the unsaved).

Henry Ward Beecher reported, "He [Moody] thinks it is no use to attempt to work for this world. In his opinion it is blasted- a wreck bound to sink- and the only thing that is worth doing is to get as many of the crew off as you can, and let her go."... the whole momentum of Dispensational theology moved toward a form of premillennialism which was evangelistically active but socially passive. This outlook expected the world to become increasingly corrupt and conceived the church's main duty as witnessing to the justifying work of Christ, not making disciples whose growth in sanctification could change the world. The result was an outlook which accurately predicted the apostasy of Western Christendom in the twentieth century but which may also have helped produce it.

A Direct Quote from Dynamics, p. 376-77 

Alcohol, Slavery and Loss of Social Concern 2

Lovelace continues, "a second shift, which was also divisive, was the emergence of diverging positions over the issue of slavery. While the English evangelicals had remained united in their opposition to this institution and had brought about a bloodless revolution in its abolition, American evangelicals began to divide on this issue in the 1820s into at least three groups":

1. those who favored immediate abolition no matter what the cost.

2. those who favored ultimate abolition but only after a vaguely defined period of preparation.

3. those who defended slavery on biblical and theological grounds.

Dynamics, pp. 375-76

In defense of #2 and #3 came the argument that “... the gospel should deal with ‘spiritual matters’ and not meddle with political or social affairs, the familiar Fundamentalist argument for passive support of the status quo, emerged before the Civil War as conservative evangelical defense of resistance toward or postponement of abolition” (Dynamics, p. 376).

Lovelace writes further:

The seriousness of the break in evangelical ranks on the issue can hardly be overestimated. The results have included the necessity of fighting one of the bloodiest wars in history in order to accomplish what English churchmen did with prayer and argument,... and a retreat from all social applications of the gospel except a few relating to personal morality such as "temperance" (Dynamics, p. 376).

Alcohol, Slavery and Loss of Social Concern 1

The Second Great Awakening in America (beginning in the early 19th century) proceeded through five developmental stages in which interdenominational evangelical societies spearheaded different levels of reformation:

1. missionary societies sought to stimulate the evangelistic progress of the church at home and abroad.
2. the production of Christian literature both for evangelism and nurture distributed through Bible and tract societies.
3. societies promoting religion and education through Sunday Schools.
4. societies for moral reformation.
5. societies for broadscale social reform on issues like temperance, peace and antislavery.

Lovelace writes:

The American reform movement evolved into an extensive interdenominational network of interlocking leadership... characterized as a “Benevolent Empire." In the reform of mores it could on occasion appear to be moralistic or theocratic as in the case of the sabbath and radical temperance movements. But there were social and humanitarian concerns motivating even these initiatives, ...” (Dynamics, pp. 371-372).

Lovelace comments that while these initial stages of the Second GA were positive in many ways, before too long a united evangelical front begins to disintegrate:

By the 1830s some American evangelicals were moving toward radical solutions which seemed logical but were not necessarily biblical,... such as the redefinition of temperance as total abstinence from all alcoholic beverages rather than moderation... many denominational leaders began to think twice about the extraecclesiastical maneuvers of the reforming societies, and a resurgent confessionalism arose to counter the original evangelical impulse toward ecumenicity" (Dynamics, p. 375).

A Love for the Whole Person

"Some men shew a love to others as to their outward man, they are liberal of their worldly substance, and often give to the poor; but have no love to, or concern for the souls of men. Others pretend a great love to men's souls, that are not compassionate and charitable towards their bodies. The making a great show of love, pity, and distress for souls, costs 'em nothing; but in order to shew mercy to men's bodies, they must part with money out of their pockets. But a true Christian love to our brethren, extends both to their souls and bodies" (Religious Affections, by Jonathan Edwards, p. 369).

Finale: A Unitive Vision of Christendom

I suppose when we speak of unity in the Church (capital “C”) there is an ideal hope that must be maintained but also a realistic vision of what can reasonably be accomplished. As my doctoral mentor Steve Garber likes to say, “seeking proximate justice.” Lovelace implies that we the Church can reasonably achieve Ephesians 4:13-15 (Dynamics, p. 311):

… until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

Still, if we take Garber’s idea of doing “proximate justice” to the hope of Eph. 4 and combine Lovelace’s contention that given our current situation we can achieve this kind of unity “not in terms of monolithic structures of polity, but rather as a network of Christian hearts retaining fellowship and communication with one another,” then we can have genuine but realistic hope for a unitive vision of Christendom. Catholic theologian Bryan Cross would accuse Lovelace’s call for “united hearts” rather than “united ecclesial structure” to be what he calls an “ecclesial deism” (see Ecclesial Deism).

The problem with Cross’ argumentation is that it involves the a priori supposition that rather than working towards its realization, the thing itself must be present now (in this case, the Visible Church with a unified ecclesial structure), if Protestants are to avoid the charge of ecclesial deism. Cross denies the notion of the “process” that might be involved in achieving the fullness of the realization of the Kingdom and thereby concludes what he already assumes, that the Catholic church with its visible forms of ecclesial institutionalism is in fact the concrete visible realization of Christ’s organized church (and the ONLY one at that). Of course, even Cross’ supposition assumes the global Catholic church itself is in fact a “monolithic structure of polity.”

Our argument and vision here is for something broader, deeper and wider than Cross’ attempts to separate entirely the ecclesiology of Catholicism from that of Protestantism, rather to say that as we approach proximate justice in the world, the broken structures of the Church hold forth the genuine hope of being made new. Perhaps the illustration of marriage works here. In my church, I have couples who are strongly unified in the covenant bond of marriage, yet I have others who are “together” but not really: living under the same roof but not truly “one” as they are meant to be. I have some who are legally married but currently separated, even some living at two different residences. Still I have some who have experienced the greatest breach of the covenant bond of marriage, that of adultery, but are now working towards restoration and reconciliation; by the way, here is a short video of a courageous couple (from another local fellowship in Lincoln) working through this very difficult process: Beauty From Ashes.  For some of the couples working through this terrible infidelity, there has been a process of moving from a temporary physical separation to a time of living under the same roof, but perhaps in different rooms in the house, to moving towards one another, eventually the same bed and prayerfully with the hope of restoration, intimacy, physical and spiritual oneness once again. So using this analogy of marriage, here’s my question: does the fact that not all these couples are in the same place in terms of their “outward unity” therefore mean that they are not in fact a meaningful and substantial part of the institution of marriage?  Does this mean that they somehow have embraced an understanding of marriage that is deistic or "gnostic" in Cross' contention? NO! It only means they are working towards the full restoration of their marriages and in the meantime have only achieved “proximate justice.” Even in my own marriage of sixteen years where there is a lot of support, love and intimacy, there is only proximate justice. My friend and seminary classmate Dr. Chuck DeGroat gets at this beautifully in one of his blogposts when he says:

But let me tell you this: those of us who are married, and married honestly, have hit bottom. Our own crap and posing is eventually exposed. Our marriages hit a place of death. All of our former ideals around intimacy and success and sex and prosperity explode. And we hear that old Scripture ringing in our eat: “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground…” And we know life emerges from death.  Myths and Musings on Being Single

So given the “imperfection” of things, what is a hopeful vision of a "unified Christendom"? Lovelace suggests that we move forward by considering ways that we might "unify our hearts" for the Kingdom, where we might pursue a network of meaningful communication, prayer and support across denominational and ecclesial lines. Through my years in Lincoln, I have been blessed to be in a prayer group (now for almost 10 years) comprised of the following: one pastor who is Southern Baptist, two who are of the Assemblies of God, one out of the Berean Fundamentalist movement (the church in recent years has dropped “fundamentalist” from their name), one from the “Christian Church” (a branch off the Disciples of Christ tree), another from an independent Bible Church, one who is a part of an independent Pentecostal branch, yet another from the Evangelical Free Church. Included in the group are Pastor Stu Kerns and myself both of whom are pastors of the Presbyterian Church in America. One of my trusted friends in Lincoln is a pastor in the American Baptist Church, a good brother I would describe as having a Spirit-filled, evangelical heart serving in primarily a mainline denomination. Also, when my Buddhist grandmother passed away in 2006, I took a month off from my church and sought counsel from various individuals, one of the trusted individuals I sought counsel from was Father Thomas Leitner of the RC Benedictine order, St. Benedict’s, in Schuyler, NE; I’ve been “retreating” regularly to St. Benedict’s since 1998.  

These “alliances” have not always been easy to forge in each case, but they have been good. I think what I’m learning is that there is a new kind of ecumenism as Thomas Oden speaks about in his book The Rebirth of Orthodoxy. It’s a different kind of ecumenism than the watered-down, “doctrine and distinctives do not matter” ecumenism of the older liberalism. Rather it is an actual rebirth of regenerative faith, often in older institutions (mostly mainline) once thought to be “spiritually dead” but now coming alive again as movements within those older institutions awaken to a live orthodoxy (this was Lovelace’s contention, wasn’t it? that once the children of the most “liberal” churches are brought under the preaching of the Gospel, their response is often powerful given the covenant faithfulness of God. See Unity and Purity 4 post). This vision of a “unitive Christendom” is attainable, even if only proximately so,... so we must work for it and pray all the more fervently for it as well.

One final word regarding this “unitive vision” of Christendom. Jim Belcher wrote a book back in 2009 called Deep Church. Inside his grace-filled book Belcher seeks to bring together those on both sides of the "Traditional" versus "Emerging" Church Divide today, and he does an admirable job encouraging such unity and understanding across "party" lines. I think Richard Lovelace was Jim Belcher long before Jim Belcher was Jim Belcher. I say this because on p. 312 of his book, Lovelace talks about churches that tend to be a bit more "sectarian" (today's "traditional church") versus those that tend to be more "inclusive" (today's "emerging church") and exhorts that there might be greater understanding between the two. Listen to Lovelace here:

There are really two different and equally reasonable approaches to forming a denominational structure. One is to define as fully as possible the system of truth in Scripture and gather a group of Christians around this as a voluntary association of witnesses to one strain of Christianity. The other is to seek out the minimal circle of biblical truth which guarantees the honor of God and the spiritual health of believers, and to make this a rallying point for the largest possible number of Christians, seeking to make the visible church approximate the invisible as closely as possible….

…with the indiscriminate conformity of the melting pot,… we can acknowledge the positive function of sectarian Christianity, up to a point. We can also understand that the pluralist and inclusivist denominational structures have an important place in building the kingdom, since perfectionist discipline is one of the main causes of schism and indiscriminate weeding can destroy wheat along with the tares. Both the separatist and the inclusivist should respect one another, keeping in mind that great buildings are sometimes raised on rejected cornerstones. 

Both of these ecclesiological postures requires constant attention and criticism, of course. They are makeshift correctives for the opposing errors of schism and indiscipline, which afflict the church in its imperfect historical existence. Each is slightly off balance and needs repeated tuning to keep its balance, so that it can avoid collapsing into parochial sectarianism or indiscriminate chaos.  Dynamics, p. 312-13

Lovelace seeks to bring together both the bodies that may be more “confessional,” even sectarian in their identities, as well as those that might be more inclusive, “broadly evangelical” or "neo-evangelical" in Lovelace’s terms; of course he does so by encouraging both sides to be aware of their imbalances, need for continual "re-tuning" and ultimate need for "one another." It’s interesting how many of the movements within Christendom, since the formation of Protestantism in the 16^th century have been cyclical- “new problems” really are “old problems”; yet, the need to heed the voice of the Holy Spirit saying “There is one body and one Spirit— just as you were called to one hope when you were called— one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all” (Eph. 4:4-6) continues to be as constant as ever.

Unity and Purity 5: Occasions for Separation

So to this point, we have spent some time documenting the attempts and challenges over the last five centuries since the time of the Protestant Reformation, where attempts as well as challenges to the attempts for reunion between Protestant groups and in some instances the reunion of Protestants and Catholics has arisen. The previous post challenges some of the rationale for splinter/separatist groups that have arisen on the American landscape, urging us to consider the very tenor of God's work to redeem throughout history, that perhaps God is still faithful to the "institutional church" even in places where it is faithless. Lovelace even wonders if the older institutional structures of Christian religion in America might not be the "rail system" through which a renewal of interest in Mission and God's Kingdom come.

Still, in pushing for a "unitive vision of evangelicalism" (the name of chapter 10 in his book), nonetheless Lovelace does have a section (in chapter 10) entitled, "When Separation is Necessary." Lovelace writes, "Despite the desirability of remaining within seemingly apostate bodies to work toward their renewal, it must be recognized that separation is sometimes necessary..." (Dynamics, p. 309).

The first occasion for separation as Lovelace writes is in those instances when the parent body perpetually violates the consciences of its members or restricts practices in essential areas. As a caution, in such cases, it is of the utmost importance that the group determine if the issue over which the schism occurs is of "ultimate importance." To what extent is the parent body so terminally ill so as to be jaded to the liberty purchased for us by Christ? in essence to have lost a hold of the Gospel itself (Galatians 5:1)? The analogy of amputation is used when it is necessary to cut off a limb where there is gangrene, for example; but what if the entire parent body is cancerous?

In addition to a parent body being terminally ill, the second occasion Lovelace says is when there is "unequal yoking" that hinders the "maximum working efficiency of the church by crippling some of its members" (Dynamics, p. 310). The example is given within my own Presbyterian history when J. Gresham Machen left Princeton Seminary in 1929; Lovelace says had Machen not done so, "...the Evangelical movement in America in this century (20th) would have been considerably impoverished":

The subsequent withdrawal of Orthodox Presbyterianism from the mother denomination constituted a disastrous loss of white corpuscles from the parent body. But it also saved the denomination from tearing itself apart in an allergic reaction, a spiritual equivalent of the disease called lupus. The isolated leukocytes went their way in less than optimal health, occasionally turning on one another in counterproductive attacks which showed that not all the fault was in the parent church. But their isolation did enable them to maintain a form of biblical orthodoxy with integrity of conscience, although not always with the balance and catholicity which continuing involvement with other leaders would provide. Their witness formed a plumb line for the rest of Evangelicalism, reminding it of the fallibility of modern innovations and holding before it an ideal of absolute fidelity to Scripture, even though this ideal was imperfectly attained. In many respects they lost contact with the real situation in the mainline denominations whose thrust they continued to challenge, and their prophetic witness to these denominations at times became uncharitable and parochial. But they did preserve their distinct approach, … and they too are sprouting new leaves and bearing fruit in the midst of the present renewal.  Dynamics, p. 311

I cannot begin to express how much I appreciate these words of Lovelace's as they tap into some of my most deeply-held existential questions regarding my being Evangelical and Presbyterian. For one, Lovelace acknowledges the central importance of Machen and his split from both Princeton as well as the mainline Presbyterian church later in the 30s. Lovelace describes how Machen served as a "plumbline" for all Evangelical Christians regarding fidelity to Scripture. But Lovelace then goes on to acknowledge that this ideal/plumbline was "imperfectly attained," that Machen's prophetic witness at times was uncharitable and parochial and that he often lacked "balance and catholicity." Wow. I don't know how to express this fully, but I needed to hear this. I needed to hear about both the great contributions of my Presbyterian forefather as well as have someone acknowledge his failures as well; Lovelace did both. Wow. I am part of the fruit of Machen's work for which I am grateful, but also I know the seeds of that fruit were sown imperfectly.

Unity and Purity 4: Apostasy, A Central Theme

In more recent times, it's often been the contention of splinter evangelical groups that the reason for standing apart from the institutional church or seceding as such is due to "apostasy" or the fact that institutional religion is dead or has "left" the true faith. Lovelace explores whether apostasy that is present within a denomination or institutionalized church group in and of itself is sufficient reason to "leave" and form another splinter group. Lovelace's contention is that the answer is "no." Why? Because "the recovery of apostate bodies" is "the central theme of the history of redemption" (Dynamics, p. 302). I think this is a challenging section of Lovelace's writing. While his book was written in 1979, he has a lot to say to us some thirty+ years later, especially in a day and age many have embraced the superiority of house churches and nondenominational churches and when Christians and people in general have viewed "institutional religion" with disdain. Throughout the history of the Bible, has God viewed such "institutional religion" with disdain?

The families that fall away from the Abrahamic covenant line and fan out to form the gentile world are not lost in total or perpetual apostasy. Each of them is recovered at least in part through the Messianic seed, including the apostate covenant line, since God has shut up all in disobedience that he might show mercy on all….

But along with the attribute of mercy, God’s faithfulness is also displayed in the history of the Old Covenant. Neither Judah nor Israel is ever left without religious cultus (institutional religion) by a secession of believing priests and prophets; these are always presented as gifts of God’s continuing love to his covenant nation to restore it from apostasy. The northern and southern kingdoms were scattered in the exile, but in the apostolic age the remnant returned to Palestine is evangelized and the Diaspora (the scattered Jews throughout) became the primary missionary target in the Mediterranean world. The congregations gathered out of Judaism became a system for the dispersion of the gospel throughout the Roman Empire. It is almost as though the Diaspora were a rail system laid down for the delivery of the gospel in the New Testament era….

It could be argued that in every age the message of the gospel should be brought ideally “to the Jew first,” to every institutional body with roots in the Judeo-Christian Lineage, no matter how great its current apostasy. Thus the ecclesiastical structures in any era would represent a rail system for the renewal of the interest and mission of God’s kingdom. On this assumption we would expect to find God reviving the church close to the main trunks of its historical development, rather than in the twigs and branches leading off from these through separations. And we have found this true in history, although happily when God sends renewal he revives the twigs as well as the trunk and the major branches.  Dynamics, pp. 302-03

Lovelace's contention that renewal and the continuing expansion of the Kingdom of Christ may come primarily through "lost institutions" being recovered, reminds me of a friend who had grown up in a Presbyterian Church, in fact her father was the minister of that church; however, the church had in many ways strayed from the regenerative evangelical heartbeat of the true Gospel of Christ. Of course, when this woman came to Zion Church in Lincoln (a more "traditional" Presbyterian Church with evangelical life or as Lovelace says, with a "live orthodoxy") a while back when I was interning there, she came to see the beauty of the substance of the Gospel message she had come to embrace through a campus ministry, but now united again to some of the same institutional forms of the Presbyterian church of her youth. In other words, the institutional forms that she had been around her entire life had come alive once they were united to regenerative faith. I do wonder if this is the way God means to bring reformation, renewal and revival back to the American landscape, by reinvigorating churches that have previously strayed from the true faith. As Lovelace says:

Ministers who separate from impure churches alienate themselves, not only from the leadership structure they denounce, but also from the ongoing stream of lay people for which God intended them as gifts. These ministers should not be surprised to see repeated outpourings of the Spirit and fruitful reproduction of new leadership in the bodies they have left, because God is faithful to his covenant people in succeeding generations even if the present generation has gone whoring with false prophets. When the children of the most “liberal” churches are brought under the preaching of the central gospel, their response is often remarkably powerful both in depth and in numbers of converts, and the reason for this is the covenant faithfulness of God.  Dynamics, pp. 306

Sermon on 9/11/11

This is a solemn day for Americans. In my sermon today, I talk a bit about my internal reaction when I saw a t-shirt worn by a young man, just a few weeks following 9/11. The t-shirt said, "God Bless Afghanistan." In the sermon, I talk about the "pan-nationalistic" allegiance Christians are to have to our heavenly citizenship. Providentially, Jonah showed up: http://gracepca.com/podcast/2011-09-11.mp3

Unity and Purity Addendum

Lovelace explores the question, what would the Reformers think of the Protestant Church today? He surmises that since the Reformers were against the separation of people from imperfect Protestant bodies, they might have some harsh critiques for the denominationalism and schism of Protestant bodies in our day. Lovelace reminds that it wasn't so much that the Reformers voluntarily separated themselves from the  Roman church but that they were "put out of the church" because of the reforms they were advocating:

Eventually, however, after the Council of Trent, they (the Reformers) gave up hope of reconciliation with the Roman church, since its leaders did not at that point respond to their fundamental concerns for biblical authority and for the proclamation of the gospel of Christ without the corruption of Judaistic legalism (similar forms of legalism as found in the book of Galatians).  Dynamics, p. 301

Of course, Lovelace understands he is speculating a bit as to what the Reformers would think of today's Protestant Church, so he is also not hesitant to leave some of the blame for our divisiveness and schism at the feet of the Reformers and their "children" as well:

But it is also possible that the generations of Protestants following the Reformers gave up on Rome too quickly. After all, Rome has not been able to retain possession of the title Antichrist in our (Protestant) literature, not only because other candidates (for Antichrist) have emerged in history, but because it has shown a surprising stability of commitment to supernatural Christianity and even a susceptibility to modern movements of Evangelical renewal such as the Charismatic movement. The great seventeen-century evangelical Georg Calixtus and Zinzendorf both entertained hope for the recovery of Rome.  Dynamics, p. 302

Unity and Purity 3: Forces Against Reunion

As we move from the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries of Protestant efforts for renewal and reunion, the 19th and 20th centuries bring some challenging new forces. Whereas through the 16th-18th centuries, the various Protestant groups grappled with what it meant to be the Church pure in doctrine and also united as far as possible, the 19th-20th centuries brought "secular humanist" influences that came from the Enlightenment emphases of high rationalism, higher critical scholarship and "modern science as priest."

Evangelicals began to see themselves as primarily "the Church" being attacked, so while many Evangelical groups continued to seek renewal and revival within their own movements, they tended to be more separatist from other Protestant groups. For example, "Among them were the Campbellites who... sought the renewal of the local congregation but renounced both the strategy of transformationism and the goal of transdenominational union" (Dynamics, p. 300). Also, "Darbyite (Plymouth Brethren) emissaries visited America in the mid-nineteenth century, preaching a new premillennial eschatology and the necessity of secession from the apostate institutional church" (Dynamics, p. 300):

Facing an increasing secularization of the church’s mind in the early twentieth century; however, American Evangelicals began more and more to be susceptible to the second Darbyite principle (to separate from the institutional church), since both the church and the surrounding culture seemed to be moving toward apostasy with increasing speed. As in the days of Baxter and Mather, Evangelicals sought to define a minimal core of doctrine around which Christians in all camps could rally. But many Fundamentalists, having affirmed this unity, proceeded to secede from all denominations into independent congregations, seeking perfect freedom to follow the Bible and their consciences. Others followed the approach of confessional orthodoxy, seceding into “continuing churches” of one sort or another.

By the midtwentieth century many American evangelicals felt that the cause of interdenominational experiential orthodoxy was languishing under the conditions of isolation and disarray produced by this turn of events, and these began to move back to the original ideal of unitive evangelicalism forming such institutions as the National Association of Evangelicals and the Evangelical Theological Society. The Evangelical coalition thus formed brought together two important yet distinct groups: (1) Neo-Evangelical forces like the Billy Graham Association and Fuller Seminary, which preserved the old intent to transform the major denominations, and (2) other Evangelicals more concerned to preserve confessional integrity and yet recognizing the Reformation imperative to acknowledge transconfessional unity with other orthodox Christians.

Increasingly, however, the core of concerns uniting this coalition reflected a limited and more narrowly defined version of the live, experiential orthodoxy of the era of Zinzendorf and Whitefield. These concerns were principally a high view of scriptural authority and evangelism with the goal of regenerate churches. By the mid-1970s both of these components were demonstrating increasing vigor, but were manifesting some strain over their differing ecclesiastical strategies, diverging terminology and scriptural authority, and the political polarization between conservative elders and the radicalized generation emerging from the 1960s.  Dynamics, pp. 300-01

Unity and Purity 2: Attempts at Reunion

Following the Reformation were the children of the Reformation. English Puritan pastor Richard Baxter, a child of the Reformed movement of the Reformation "labored for years to devise a basis for a comprehensive national church which would avoid sectarian division and yet permit a wide diversity of practice anchored to a base of radical orthodoxy." Lovelace writes that Baxter spent a great deal of time and energy seeking a "core doctrine around which all English Christians could unite, according to the formula of Rupert Meldenius: 'Unity in essentials, liberty in incidentals, and in all things charity'" (Dynamics, p. 296). American Puritan Cotton Mather "reasoned that an outpouring of the Holy Spirit which would create genuine godliness among Christians of differing minor persuasions might enable all of these to detect Christ in one another and attain unity" (Cotton Mather, The Stone Cut Out of the Mountain, p. 6).

The Pietists who were children of the Lutheran movement of the Reformation were generally more committed to the established church structure; their most well-known advocates, Philip Jacob Spener and August Hermann Francke were less optimistic for "structural reunification" between the various Protestant movements; however, within the Lutheran church were desirous of "the vision of the ultimate transformation of world culture through the impact of a revived and unified Christendom cherished..." (Dynamics, p. 297).

One of the students who fell off the Spener and Francke tree was Count Ludwig von Zinzendorf who took the vision of Spener and Francke beyond Lutheranism and sought to bring about revival and spiritual unity within "every sector of Christendom." Describing the town in which Zinzendorf ministered, Lovelace writes:

Herrnhut was ecumenist from the start, since it was composed not only of Moravian refuges but also of fragments from Reformed and Catholic backgrounds. Zinzendorf proceeded as if the experience of Herrnhut were a paradigm for the future of the whole church. His theological basis for renewal and union was remarkably brief; it embraced all as Christians who professed allegiance to the Lamb of God and ‘had experienced the death of Christ upon the heart.’…

Zinzendorf was not aiming at organizational unity and uniformity among Christians, however, since he believed that each denomination represented a tropos paideia (training ground), a unique cultural and traditional incarnation of the gospel with its own particular genius and expression of the Christian essence. He did not desire the dissolution of the tropoi, but only their binding together in fraternal charity, mutual respect, communication and communion within a sort of loose federation. He entertained the possibility that even a renewed and reformed Roman Catholicism might be a part of this structure. In this and other respects his vision moved far beyond the comprehension and agreement of the other great leaders of the Great Awakening (think George Whitefield, Jonathan Edwards and John Wesley). But from our perspective he appears as one of the major architects of the interdenominational, pan-denominational renewal movement which today we call Evangelicalism.  Dynamics, p. 297-98

Even among the leaders of the Great Awakening, Lovelace notes the strong unity between Whitefield (the Calvinist) and Wesley (the Arminian) as well as Edwards writings attacking sectarian division and commending the unitive vision of leaders like Spener (Dynamics, p. 298).

Unity and Purity 1: Beginnings of Protestantism

I love what Lovelace has to say about how the Evangelical movement historically has sought “to spread the leaven of the kingdom of God within the largest and most comprehensive church structures, rather than as a separatist movement…” (Dynamics, p. 294).  This gives me great hope that my heritage as an Evangelical Christian is ultimately one of seeking unity with as broad a sweep as possible within Christendom. I’m encouraged to know that just because I am a “Protest-ant,” even within the history of the movement I am a part of, there has been a concerted effort to heed, rather than disregard, that portion of Jesus’ High Priestly Prayer that His Beloved would be one as He and the Father are one (John 17:11,22). Listen to Lovelace in describing the intention of Martin Luther the “first man” of the Protestant Reformation:

Luther himself in the early years of his reforming work was aiming, not at separation, but at the renewal of Western Catholicism. As late as 1520 he was still appealing “to the Pope better informed” and hoping that action from the head of the church system might heal the decay in its members. It is true that in the year he came to conclude that the apostasy of Rome was irremediable and that the roman system was in fact the predicted expression of Antichrist in history- an eschatological assumption that was to haunt Protestant/Catholic relations for centuries…. But the origins of modern Evangelicalism as a pan-denominational renewal movement can be traced back to his proposal in the Preface to the German Mass that the church be renewed not by separation but by the formation everywhere of ecclesiolae in ecclesia, little churches, within the church.  Dynamics, p. 294

Unity and Purity Series

The first step in my pursuit of my Doctor of Ministry program has been to explore what it means to stand firm within a particular "tradition" of Christianity (Reformed in my case); yet, at the same time, celebrate the "catholicity" of the broader Church (see my post: The Beginning of the D.Min. Quest). Richard Lovelace is taking me to great depths understanding this question further. I've always found it interesting through my 22yr. journey as an evangelical Christian that many evangelicals will stress "unity and love" but the second someone stands on a point (or system) of doctrine that may seem "secondary" or outside a "minimal circle of biblical truth" (Dynamics, p. 312), we can be very quick to separate from such Christian brothers and sisters. It's interesting how we can be divisive in our belief that we should be united; in other words, the line is drawn in the sand that "if you do not have the experience of Jesus like I do (are you "born again"?) and emphasize only the bare minimal amount of Biblical truth that I do (and, as we can think, 'as all Christians who care about what's important in the Christian life do'), then I will disassociate with you." As Lovelace says of such brothers and sisters, "They can easily fall into a posture of downplaying doctrine altogether as a divisive factor and substitute experience" (Dynamics, p. 313). How often have I heard over the years, "Christians should not stress doctrines that divide" but then have such voices gone on to divide from groups that stress doctrine and have confessional identities (usually distancing themselves from denominational groups like Lutherans, Presbyterians and especially Catholics).

I suppose my goal here isn't to throw stones at my evangelical brothers and sisters, for what good would it do to throw stones at my own family? rather to help the family along by exploring the complexities of these questions regarding what it means to value both Unity and Purity (Scriptural Fidelity, i.e. "sound doctrine") as those who are a part of the Church (notice, capital "C"). So with a multi-part series I plan to do the following: first, explore the splitting of the Protestant movement from the Western institutional church, what we now know as Catholicism; secondly, by looking at attempts for reunion among Protestant movements from the time of the Reformation on; thirdly, by looking at Protestant groups that have tended to be more separatist and their concerns for confessional identity, purity of doctrine and preservation; fourthly by exploring further Lovelace's contention that even where "apostate bodies" may exist, restoration of those bodies is "not only a possibility according to biblical teaching but that it is in fact the central theme of the history of redemption" (Dynamics, p. 302); fifthly, considering occasions when genuine separation from a church body (or group of confessing Christians) might be appropriate and even necessary and finally seeking a hopeful vision of moving forward as the Church (capital "C") universal.

"Out of the Heart are the Issues of Life" -Edwards

"The form of orthodoxy against which (Jonathan) Edwards contended divided the human personality into three independent compartments- mind, will and emotions- and assumed that these could be rectified separately in redemption. The mind could be filled with correct information; the will could be directed toward good works; and- somewhat as an afterthought- 'devotion' cold be cultivated as an emotional frosting on the cake, if one cared for that sort of thing. Against this Edwards contended that all the faculties were rooted in the heart, the subconscious wellspring from which flow all the issues of life. He held that redemptive truth could not produce a genuine change in the mind, will or emotions unless it had entered the life through a work of the Holy Spirit which renewed and purified this wellspring, producing a new 'sense of the heart' which could energize the whole personality through the vision of God."

Dynamics, p. 277

Confessional Orthodoxy Lending to Darkness

I thought Lovelace’s insights on how the Enemy does his work in our part of the world, where there is little persecution and “freedom of religion,” were very insightful. Lovelace makes the contention that here in the West we tend to be subject to “milder forms of demonic attack” primarily in the way those "inside" the Church treat one another:  

This sort of quite opposition to renewal is not confined to the world, of course. It appears in its most mischievous forms within the church, where Christians of differing parties have their natural tendency to ignore and stereotype one another quietly reinforced by the real enemy. Those who have unintentionally become the bitterest opponents of renewal in the church have often been professing Christians usually either to the right or the left of live orthodoxy. Sometimes the opposition has come from both sides at once. Established confessional orthodoxy lends itself to the interests of darkness in these encounters whenever it accepts Satan’s estimate and mistakes a sound movement for a Trojan horse with attractive camouflage.  Dynamics, p. 258

Richard Lovelace Quoting Edwards on Pride

(Jonathan) Edwards takes up the effects of pride on the aftermath of revival in a classic section of Thoughts on the Revival in New England. He judges it to be the greatest single cause of the miscarriage of revivals because it affects those who are most zealous to promote them:

This is the main door by which the devil comes into the hearts of those who are zealous for the advancement of religion… the chief inlet of smoke from the bottomless pit, to darken the mind and mislead the judgment… the main handle by which the devil has hold of religious persons, and the chief source of all the mischief that he introduces, to clog and hinder a work of God. Edwards, Thoughts on Revival, p. 414

Pride drastically hinders revival because it padlocks the spirit, shutting the soul off in its own darkness and blocking it from dealing not only with pride itself (for “those that are spiritually proud, have a high conceit of these two things, viz. their light, and their humility” (Thoughts on Revival, p. 416) but with every other area of the flesh. Because spiritual pride is so secretive, it is hard to detect except through its effects. Edwards proceeds therefore to analyze those effects, nothing that they are generally opposite counterparts to the fruits of the Spirit:

Spiritual pride is very apt to suspect others; whereas an humble saint is more jealous of himself, he is so suspicious of nothing in the world as he is of his own heart. The spiritually proud person is apt to find fault with other saints, that they are low in grace; and to be much in observing how cold and dead they are; and being quick to discern and take notice of their deficiencies. But the eminently humble Christian has so much to do at home… that he is not apt to be very busy with other hearts…. He is apt to esteem others better than himself, and is ready to hope that there is nobody but what has more love and thankfulness to God than he, and cannot bear to think that others should bring forth no more fruit to God’s honour than he. Edwards, Thoughts on Revival, p. 418

Pride magnifies the faults of other Christians and diminishes their graces, while it diminishes the faults and magnifies the graces of its subjects. It is apt to treat the needs of others as occasions of contempt and laughter than as sources of concern and shock….

Under the guise of prophetic righteousness, pride can move awakened believers to censorious attacks on other Christians, a lack of meekness in rebuking those who really need it and a hair-trigger readiness to separate from those less holy or less orthodox. It can do things to Christians which make their religion grate painfully on the sensibilities of fellow believers. It can engender an unholy boldness before God which expresses itself in undue familiarity and effusive religious talk. It can make people proud to be weird for Jesus and grateful for the persecution this provokes. As Edwards says, “Spiritual pride often disposes persons to singularity in external appearance, to affect a singular way of speaking, to use a different sort of dialect from others, or to be singular in voice, countenance, or behaviour” (Thoughts on Revival, p. 421)…. Edwards notes further:

Spiritual pride commonly occasions a certain stiffness and inflexibility in persons, in their own judgment and their own way; whereas the eminently humble person, though he be inflexible in his duty, and in those things wherein God’s honour is concerned… yet in other things he is of a pliable disposition… ready to pay deference to others’ opinions, loves to comply with their inclinations, and has a heart that is tender and flexible, like a little child…. And though he will not be a companion with one that is visibly Christ’s enemy… yet he does not love the appearance of an open separation from visible Christians… and will as much as possible shun all appearances of superiority, or distinguishing himself as better than others…. Spiritual pride takes great notice of opposition and injuries that are received, and is apt to be speaking of them, and to be much in taking notice of their aggravations, either with an air of bitterness or contempt. Edwards, Thoughts on Revival, p. 421-22

….Pride forces believers to either of two extremes in handling opponents: spiteful polemics (argumentation) or refusal to dialog.  Dynamics, pp. 245-47

Loss of Sanctification

At what point in our history did Evangelical churches gain the reputation as being judgmental, legalistic, unloving and unconcerned for the world's affairs? In his 1979 classic, Dynamics of Spiritual Life, Richard Lovelace says that this began to happen when Evangelical churches began focusing less and less on sanctification, i.e. spiritual renewal in the Christian life and began focusing more on "cultic legal codes of separation" instead (Dynamics, p. 235). As a result, "socially concerned churchmen" began to find themselves pitted against "Fundamentalists concerned mainly for conversion and code moralism" (Dynamics, p. 235).  "...there would have been less excuse for it (this division between emphasizing salvation versus social concern) if the Evangelical church had been pursuing sanctification, rooting out pride, race prejudice, covetous immersion in affluence and all the deeper forms of sin which easily hide beneath a cover of pharisaic respectability. After all, the major argument many Protestant liberals have against 'supernatural conversion experienced' is the distinctly natural lives led by many 'born again' congregations" (Dynamics, p. 235). Lovelace's observation is extremely convicting- an argument against believing in the message of born again Christians by observing the lives of those professing to believe in that message. Lovelace implies that the rejection of our message is often due to the lack of transformed lives committed to rooting out pride and self-righteousness, perhaps too much an emphasis on "conversion" and not enough on the role of spiritual renewal, growth and sanctification, sanctification not merely as a theological concept but as a living reality.     

Laura Hillenbrand

In finishing her gripping novel Unbroken, I learned more about the author Laura Hillenbrand, someone with a remarkable story. Hillenbrand's New Yorker article, "A Sudden Illness," won the 2004 National Magazine Award. As I googled the article, I learned about a woman who has walked through a harrowing, deep and persistent struggle with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome: someone misdiagnosed and cruelly told for years that she had psychiatric problems, couldn't take care of herself, was lazy, selfish and unmotivated, needed to eat more, couldn't handle the rigors of life, etc. Hillenbrand was treated as such by medical professionals until she found an Infectious Disease Specialist named Dr. John G. Bartlett at John Hopkins University School of Medicine. Dr. Bartlett diagnosed Hillenbrand with CFS and at that point, Hillenbrand realized that her condition was "real"; for years she had been told by physicians outside their fields of knowledge that she was "fine" and had a problem with "imagining" an illness, when in fact she wasn't fine and did indeed have an illness. 

In her article, Hillenbrand describes her condition in this way:

One mistake could land me in bed for weeks, so the potential cost of even the most trivial activities, from showering to walking to the mailbox, had to be painstakingly considered. Sometimes I relapsed for no reason at all. Living in perpetual fear of collapse was stressful,... For as long as two months at a time, I couldn't get down the stairs. Bathing became nearly impossible. Once a week or so, I sat on the edge of the tub and rubbed a washcloth over myself. The smallest exertion plunged me into a 'crash.' First, my legs would weaken and I'd lose the strength to stand. Then I wouldn't be able to sit up. My arms would go next, and I'd he unable to lift them. I couldn't roll over. Soon, I would lose the strength to speak. Only my eyes were capable of movement. At the bottom of each breath, I would wonder if I'd be able to draw the next one.

Today, Hillenbrand has great difficulty reading as looking down triggers vertigo- it takes her a painstaking amount of time to write as well. After a relapse in 2007, she didn't leave her home for over two years. Hillenbrand conducts her interviews for her books and articles over the phone and even today rarely leaves her home. When she attended the film premier of Seabiscuit a number of years ago, she did so in a wheelchair. Even Louis Zamperini who went through untold amounts of suffering (see previous blogpost) said of Hillenbrand, "Her suffering made her able to relate to what I went through in prison." 

Needless to say, I commend to you the New Yorker article- also kudos to her longtime boyfriend, now husband, Borden: read the New Yorker article and this one: USA Today Hillenbrand Article… I think you'll see why.

Unbroken, by Laura Hillenbrand

I had a break this last weekend as my family and I were able to spend some time with good friends in Colorado. As a result of the time off, I was able to read Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand. Hillenbrand is most known for her book Seabiscuit and also has a remarkable story in her own right (see: "A Sudden Illness," also USA Today Article). Hillenbrand’s book centers around the life of Louis Zamperini who was a young Olympic runner in 1936, favored to dominate in the 1940 Olympics at the 1500 meter distance and likely to be the first man who would break the four-minute mile mark. This was a feat thought impossible at the time and actually not to be accomplished until 1954 when Roger Bannister would run it in 3 minutes, 59.4 seconds. 

Because of WWII, instead of training as an elite athlete, the 1940 Olympics would be cancelled and Zamperini would be drafted. Crashing in the waters of the Pacific in the B-24 bomber The Green Hornet, Zamperini would be among three survivors of eleven crewmen. He would spend 47 days in the open sea on a raft only with rain-water to drink and a few fish and birds to eat. Only two of the three survivors from the crash would survive the days at sea. Zamperini and his friend and pilot of the downed aircraft Allen Phillips would float into Japanese controlled territory and be subjected to inhumane treatment in various Japanese POW camps for the next couple of years. 37 percent of all Americans who landed in a Japanese POW camp during WWII would perish; compare to 1 percent of Americans who were in German POW camps.

The book is unbearable at parts considering the cruelty of the Japanese captors and considering the ways men do evil to one another. The worldview of the Japanese taught that there was nothing more frightening in life than losing one's dignity; therefore, the reverse logic was such that the best way to defeat an enemy was to take away his dignity, to break his spirit. I've not felt so defeated in reading a novel in a long time- the 25% Japanese in me (and the 100% human in me) cried out for these American POWs who were subjected to cruel and forced labor conditions, brutal beatings, inhumane living conditions, starvation and creative and inventive ways of psychological torment and torture.

Yet the book is about more than the cruel evil of war and the horrific treatment of men in the Japanese death camps; it's also a book about forgiveness, reconciliation and ultimately triumph. Does that sound overly-optimistic and dramatic? A bit too "American"? You be the judge:  

In the decades after the war, the abandoned Naoetsu campsite (where Zamperini had spent most of his time as a POW and experienced unspeakable horrors at the hands of his Japanese captors) decayed, and the village residents didn’t speak of what had transpired there. Over time, the memory was largely lost. But in 1978, a former POW wrote a letter to teachers at Naoetsu High School, beginning a dialogue that introduced many locals to the tragedy that had taken place in their village. Ten years later, former POW Frank Hole journeyed back to the village, which had joined another village to form Joetsu City. He planted three eucalyptus seedlings outside city hall and gave city leaders a plaque in memory of the sixty Australians who had died in the camp.

As they learned the POWs’ stories, Joetsu residents responded with sympathy. Residents formed a group dedicated to building a peace park to honor the dead POWs and bring reconciliation. Among the founding members was Shoichi Ishizuka, a veteran who’d been held as a POW by the Americans and treated so kindly that he referred to the experience as “lucky prison life.” When he learned what his Allied counterparts had endured in his own village, he was horrified. A council was formed, fund-raising began, and exhibits were erected in town. If the plan succeeded, Joetsu would become, among the ninety-one cities in Japan in which POW camps once stood, the first to create a memorial to POWs who had suffered and died there.... In October 1995, on the site of the former Naoetsu camp, the peace park was dedicated.  Unbroken, p. 394

Zamperini’s cruelest captor was a man named Matsuhiro Watanabe; the book goes into great detail regarding Watanabe singling out Zamperini since he had been a famous Olympian and subjecting Zamperini to many sorts of cruel and torturous treatments, the deranged captor even finding sadistic and sexual pleasure out of seeing the POWs under his rule suffer.

Following the surrender of the Japanese, Watanabe fled into the countryside and took menial jobs working on farms and serving in restaurants; despite intentional manhunts focused on capturing him, he was never captured and even thought by most to have died. By 1958, as a result of US policy that shifted in an attempt to make full peace with Japan, Japanese war criminals who had not been executed to that point either were released or given greatly-reduced sentences. “Wanted” fugitives like Watanabe were no longer pursued. In 1995, it was discovered that Watanabe as a 77-year-old was still alive. Zamperini was shocked. Hillenbrand even documents the financial success Watanabe had achieved over the years becoming a successful insurance salesman (as a justice-minded person this was sickening to read). Nonetheless, Zamperini would write this letter to Watanabe (though it was never confirmed if Watanabe actually received it, for he never responded to Zamperini):

To Matsuhiro [sic] Watanabe,

         As a result of my prisoner of war experience under your unwarranted and unreasonable punishment, my post-war life became a nightmare. It was not so much due to the pain and suffering as it was the tension of stress and humiliation that caused me to hate with a vengeance.

         Under your discipline, my rights, not only as a prisoner of war but also as a human being, were stripped from me. It was a struggle to maintain enough dignity and hope to live until the war’s end.

         The post-war nightmares caused my life to crumble, but thanks to a confrontation with God through the evangelist Billy Graham, I committed my life to Christ. Love replaced the hate I had for you. Christ said, “Forgive your enemies and pray for them.”

         As you probably know, I returned to Japan in 1952 [sic] and was graciously allowed to address all the Japanese war criminals at Sugamo Prison (where many of Zamperini’s tormentors had been imprisoned following the war) . . . I asked then about you, and was told that you probably had commited Hara Kiri, which I was sad to hear. At that moment, like the others, I also forgave you and now would hope that you would also become a Christian.

Louis Zamperini

Unbroken, pp. 396-97

Dickens and Marx, by Steven Garber

"With Labor Day almost here, I have been thinking about Charles Dickens and Karl Marx—and the meaning of our work. 

Did you know that Dickens and Marx were contemporaries, both writing about the same issue at the same time in the same city? Most of us know more about Oliver Twist, David Copperfield, and Tiny Tim than we do about Das Kapital, but it is worth more than a moment to reflect on the nature of work, and what it means for each one of us and for the world.If Dickens the artist had his finger-to-the-wind of industrializing England, seeing the cracks in the capitalist society of mid-century London— allowing us to feel the pains of a world where the Ebenezer Scrooges did not have eyes to see the reality of the Tiny Tims --then Marx pressed the point, calling for an address of that alienation by a reordering of social and economic life, “from each according to ability, to each according to need.” Marx’s vision was tragically flawed, and over the next century-and-a-half millions of people died, crushed by the cruelty of his critique-- especially as it was worked out by Lenin, Stalin, and Mao.

What he did get right was that the work of our hands matters. The iconic banners of his vision, yellow flags ablaze with red sickles and hammers, were a call reminding everyone that ordinary work had transcendent meaning, viz. the world will be different because of your work! Sadly, those who rightly criticize Marx mostly miss this meaning of his vision. We don’t find transcendence in baking bread or building buildings, in teaching children to read or in making public policy, in raising cattle or growing wheat. It doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the way the world is or ought to be. Rather we offer people “jobs,” and promise that it’s what happens after work and on weekends where “real life” happens. With our headlines this morning about jobs, who has them and who creates them, this is not a small thing for the health of who we are and how we live as Americans in 2011.

The vision of the Washington Institute is focused on the integral relation of vocation to the common good. Who are we? What do we do with our lives? And what does it mean for history? Our answers to the deepest questions of life form the way that we live life, and that has consequence for life—for everyone everywhere. Hindus, Buddhists, Maoists, animists, evolutionary materialists, Muslims, Jews, Christians. We all ask and answer these questions-- yes, even Marxists do.

The harder question is this: what are the conditions—socially, politically, economically, artistically, educationally, religiously --where human beings flourish? What habits of heart are required for us to flourish?

Labor Day is a good day to reflect on what our work means: to God, to us, and to the wider world. Dickens saw something amiss, and so did Marx. Most of us feel in our bones a longing for something more. What is that we want and need? What is it that the world wants and needs?"

A Man Snarled in a Tangle

"It was still the middle of the afternoon, office hours, on the West Coast when I called Mattie. I couldn't get any living human at his office, and so I left a message on his recording machine: 'Mattie, this is your momma. Your dad died a while ago. Call me up.'

He called back in about an hour. He wanted to come home, he said, he would give anything to be here. But he was too much involved right then in things that depended on him, that he just couldn't get out of. In fact, he was shortly to leave on a trip to China for a meeting with business people there, an opportunity that might not come again. He was giving me the picture of a man snarled in a tangle, helpless to get free.

I knew that he didn't have the strength to get free. His life was being driven by a kind of flywheel. He had submitted to it and accepted it. It was turning fast. To slow it down or stop it and come to a place that was moving with the motion only of time and loss and slow grief was more, that day, than he could imagine.

I knew too that it was more than he could bear. He is in a way given over to machines, but he is not a machine himself. Right then, he could not bear the thought of coming back to stand even for a few hours by his dead father in the emptiness he once had filled. He said he would come as soon as he could."

Hannah Coulter, pp. 163-64